


Leech On The Beach

by PhoenixAccio



Category: Hunt Down The Freeman (Video Game)
Genre: ADAM ISNT DEAD, Blood Drinking, Dissociation, Fix-It, Gills, Injury, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars, leech adam, mitchell has realistic crowbar injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25769356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixAccio/pseuds/PhoenixAccio
Summary: While on a walk, Nick finds something (or someone) he thought he'd lost forever.
Relationships: (and also perhaps.......future?), ;) - Relationship, Mitchell Shephard/Nick, Nick/Adam, Past Mitchell Shephard/Adam
Kudos: 8





	Leech On The Beach

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll name this something better and not stupid later but it's Hunt Down The Freeman so who cares. Anyways welcome to my twisted mind or whatever enjoy.

Nick had never been sure why he liked walking along the beach so much. It was always foggy and cold, and the beach was comprised mostly of slippery, algae-covered rocks. The walks were never very pleasant, but every day since he and Mitch had settled here, Nick had found himself tracing that same stretch of sea nonetheless. Mitch had never understood it, and honestly neither had Nick, until one soggy fall day he became immediately, shockingly aware of exactly why he was there.

It wasn't a good day for a walk. It was never a good day for a walk around here, but today was especially bad: raining, cold, with an oppressive heaviness in the air as if the sky was closing in on Nick. Mitch had made his opinion clear regarding Nick's insistence on his walk, but Nick had gone anyways. He was beginning to regret it now, though, having slipped on the rocks about three times, barely catching himself before he could hit the jagged stones upon which he stood. Nick was seriously considering going back home, even, before he saw something moving where the tide broke against the shore.

Curious, Nick approached the object where it lay. At first he'd thought it was a bundle of clothing discarded by ill-advised swimmers, or possibly a large clump of seaweed, but when he got close enough to see the object properly, his stomach dropped. Nick was almost certain that that was a person. A probably dead person. Shit. Nick had seen dead people before, but that had been different. He had been expecting that, he was in the military, that was how things worked. Nick noticed absently that he couldn't feel his hands.

Closing his eyes against the (don't-think-about-it don't-think-about-it) Nick took a deep breath, focusing on the crisp humidity of the air on his skin, and where his hair lay wet against his neck from the now-abated rain. It was longer than it had been, back then. Nick could cut it, but he found he didn't want to. This was fine, it made him feel like an different person than he'd been when his hair was clipped short. Nick's heartrate was slowing. He ran his fingertips over the age-softened fabric of his jeans, brushing it up his hip to feel the ribbed knit of his sweatshirt's hem where it rested there. He was fine. It was fine. He was safe, he hadn't done _this._

Once his heartrate was back to what Nick felt was reasonable, with the drifty tingling in his extremities abated, Nick opened his eyes. The person--and it was _definitely_ a person--might not be dead. He needed to check. He needed to help them if they were alive, keep another life off of his conscience. His pulse was rising again. Damn. Shaking his head, Nick pushed the fear down to deal with later. Helping came first. He was fine.

Nick made his way over to the ~~b̶o̶d̶y̶~~ person. The person. He crouched beside them and gingerly rolled them over, bracing himself for Something Bad. For a moment, all he saw when he looked at the person's face was Mitch's face when Mitch had met up with him before the Avalon Vale, ragged and barely stuck back together, blood crusted along his everywhere with his eyesocket shockingly, disarmingly hollow in a way that made Nick's subconcious mind recoil from the difference. He blinked against the flashback, squeezing his eyes shut tight before looking again. 

When he opened his eyes, though, Nick thought he was still seeing things. He must have been, because he knew this face too. Nick shut his eyes again, breathing deeply, and opened them. 

Adam's gaunt, ghostly-pale face didn't change.

Shit.

Heart back to work hammering on the inside of his ribs, Nick pressed his hand against Adam's _(Adam's)_ neck, against his pulse. For a moment Nick didn't feel anything but the pounding of his own heart in his chest, accelerating every second he felt nothing under his hand. Eventually, though, Nick felt the familiar cascading thrum of Adam's strange, inhuman heart, faint but present just above his folded-in gills.

"Adam?" Nick asked, wincing as his voice cracked on the second syllable. Nick pulled the soaking scarf away from Adam's throat, in case it was confusing Adam's respiratory system, water on his neck stopping it from switching over to his lungs correctly.

"Adam?" Nick repeated, a little bit louder, brushing the man's dark bangs out of his eyes.

Miraculously, Adam's eyes opened. Maybe Nick had been right about the breathing, then.

"Adam, holy shit, how are you alive?" Nick couldn't help asking. He didn't get an answer, but he hadn't really expected one. Instead of a verbal reply, Adam made intent eye contact with Nick. It was painfully familiar, the eye contact. Mitch had always hated it, the way he hated eye contact with anyone who tried. Nick had trained himself out of his aversion for the most part, but Adam's still made him uncomfortable sometimes. It was more intense than a human's. Maybe it was the faint glow that tightly ringed his unnaturally dilated pupils..

Adam was just staring still, Nick flicked his eyes back before looking away, making an attempt to reciprocate whatever this was. Nick thought about how thin Adam looked. He thought about the heavy bags under Adam's eyes, greenish rather than the normal human purple-blue. Adam curled his upper-body to pull himself up on Nick's shoulders to sit by him, and Nick instinctively curled an arm behind Adam's back to hold him up. He was shaking, Nick noticed, and then he stopped noticing much of anything because Adam's lips were at his neck.

Nick froze, arm still around Adam. He tried not to remember all the dreams he'd had that had started this way. Adam sucked gently, in a way Nick knew would leave a mark. This too, Nick had dreamt about, once or twice. He was about to make a move of his own when sharp pain in his neck made him freeze again. This. Was not what he was expecting.

"Adam, did you just bi-"

"Shh," Adam hissed lazily, voice muffled by Nick's skin. He sucked again at the wound, and Nick _felt_ the blood come out. It felt bizarre, like bleeding but much faster. It wasn't... unpleasant. It wasn't a particularly good feeling, but Nick had definitely felt worse. Nick had known Adam drank blood, but he'd never really made the connection that this must be how it was done.

He suddenly made a connection with Mitchell, Adam, and the storage closet by all of their room on the ship, and would have put his face in his hands were Adam not in the way.

Adam. Who was still drinking. Nick wasn't certain how long it had been, but he was familiar enough with human blood content to know Adam should probably stop soon, at least for now. He allowed Adam to drink a moment longer before lightly tapping Adam's shoulder.

"You gotta stop now, bud, I still need to get you home."

Adam did not stop. Nick gave his face a gentle push, careful not to tear his own skin on Adam's teeth. After a moment, Adam's mouth unlatched, and he curled up against Nick's chest contentedly. Seeking warmth, Nick guessed.

Carefully, Nick scooped Adam up, trying to keep him where he'd settled as carefully as he could, and headed back down the beach for his and Mitch's house.

The walk seemed slower on the way back. Possibly because of the fully-grown man in Nick's arms, but who knew. Nick had to gently fend off a couple more bite attempts as he made his way along the rocky beach to the small cottage he shared with Mitch, murmuring little 'no's as he nudged Adam's face away from the junction where his shoulder met his throat. When they made it back, Nick shifted Adam a little to try and wrestle his keys out of his pocket. Awkwardly, Nick pulled the keyring from the pocket of his jeans and unlocked the front door, pushing inside with his shoulder and tossing the keys in their basket as he nudged the door closed with his foot. Adam was so light, Nick thought, he couldn't have been this light the last time he'd seen him. It was no wonder, with how sharp the angles of Adam's face had become.

Nick made his way down the small cottage's main hall, heading for his and Mitch's shared bedroom. He pushed against the door, already ajar, opening it wide enough that Adam wouldn't bump against it, and moved him to the bed. Adam was soaked with seawater and putting him down would certainly mean changing the sheets, but Nick didn't really care. There was a waterproof cover on the mattress to make cleanup easier when Mitch got nosebleeds in the night, so Nick wasn't too concerned about damaging it either as he lay Adam down on top of the the neat duvet.

"There you go," Nick murmured, smoothing Adam's hair from his face again. "Be right back, I'm getting some water."

Adam mumbled weakly, a few words that might have been meant in protest, but Nick was already leaving the room. He tried to be quick, filling a glass for himself and for Adam and bringing them right back.

"Here, see? I'm back, I brought water."

Adam was staring again, so Nick took a sip from his own glass before placing both on the bedside table and sitting down beside Adam on the bed. Seemingly grateful he'd gotten the hint, Adam curled up towards Nick hopefully, pulling at his shoulders.

"Alright, fine," Nick obliged, surprised to hear the fond note in his own voice. He helped Adam pull himself up, bracing his back like he had on the beach before going a step further, pulling Adam onto his lap. Better angle that way, Nick reasoned. This was sort of weird, maybe, but Adam needed to eat- drink? To- he needed to feed? Adam wasn't sure if that made things sound too much like a bad romance novel. The kind with vampires or something. Whatever.

Nick was pulled from his thoughts by the familiar (it had only happened once before, it shouldn't have been familiar, Nick thought) sensation of Adam's lips against his neck, then the sucking and the pointed nip of too-sharp teeth breaking skin. The bite was in more-or-less the same place as last time. The wounds overlapped, enough, as far as Nick could feel, that the two wounds would seem like one without reference for the wound a single bite left.

Nick was ready for the sensation this time, but it was still strange. He petted Adam's hair absently as Adam drank, registering that this should probably hurt longer than just the sharp nip at the beginning. Maybe Adam had administered some kind of painkiller. A venom? Nick wondered if the anesthetic fed through Adam's teeth like a snake's fangs, or if it was an inherent component of his saliva. Boxing that away as a question for later, Nick allowed his eyes to flutter shut, enjoying the contact as Adam held onto him, arms wrapped around Nick's shoulders to keep his own head stable at Nick's neck. Eventually, Adam pulled away, giving the wound he'd left a quick lick. Possibly to clot it, Nick thought. Hoped, too, that there was a reason that wasn't just Adam being weird.

Nick lowered Adam back onto the bed again, making sure he was comfortable before slipping into the en-suite bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. He didn't know if he'd need it, especially not for the wound they'd thought had killed Adam, but he'd rather have it just in case Adam had other, newer cuts or scrapes. As an afterthought, Nick wet one of the dark blue facecloths under the sink, the ones bought specifically not to show blood, and squeezed out the excess water.

Supplies gathered, Nick re-entered the bedroom, placing the first-aid kit on the bed to free one hand. Adam was already asleep, belly looking blessedly less starved-hollow than before through his loose shirt. Nick removed Adam's shoes first. To keep the bed clean, he told himself, but he knew the dirt would be easy enough to wash off. A voice in the back of Nick's mind reminded him that he'd just allowed the man to drink his blood twice, as well as playing a clip or two of his old dreams featuring Adam, and told him he's being an idiot. Nick ignored the voice. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he wanted to pretend just a little bit longer.

Soon after the shoes were tucked against the wall by the bedroom door, Adam's shirt came off. The bullet wound had scarred over. On a human, the placement would have been fatal, but Nick knew Adam's organs weren't arranged the way a human's would be. Mitch must have known this too, Nick realized, his partner had spent more time with Adam than Nick had. Pulling himself back on-topic, Nick concluded that if the bullet hadn't killed Adam yet, it was likely fine to leave alone. Aside from the fading bullet-scar, Nick found several scrapes and shallow cuts on Adam's arms and back, and a small, harmless-looking nick on one gill's outer arch. Methodically, Nick cleaned the wounds and bandaged what needed it. He gingerly rinsed the clipped gill with plain water, flushing it out just enough to avoid infection without putting any more undue stress on his dual respiratory system. When he finished, Nick tossed the bloody facecloth into the sink and stowed the medical supplies in the cabinet beneath. Remembering, Nick grabbed a towel, and returned to the bedroom.

He was doing his best to dry Adam off when he heard the door click, then open. Ah, Mitch was home. A few minutes later, Mitch's head poked in the doorway to their bedroom.

"Welcome home, Mitch," Nick greeted, trying to sound like soaking wet presumed-dead Adam was a regular presence in their shared bedroom. His brilliant scheme was apparently unsuccessful. As soon as Mitch spotted Adam on the bed and the y-shaped wound that was slowly clotting at Nick's throat, he immediately produced a threateningly flat expression before promptly leaving the room. Nick understood the sentiment. He was sure once he allowed himself to process things properly he would be freaking out as well. He and Mitch would definitely have to discuss this later, but for now, Adam needed his attention more.

Nick looked down at the creature's sleeping face. He already looked healthier than he had when Nick had found him, and Nick was sure that once Adam had slept and maybe had some more blood he'd look even better. Despite everything that had happened, Nick found himself wanting to see that happen.


End file.
